


The Fall

by EllisEmme_Writes



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 12:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21428407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllisEmme_Writes/pseuds/EllisEmme_Writes
Summary: Assumptions about how Persephone first met the God-King are challenged. What if she wasn't taken? Consider fated plan where a thin place in the barrier between the living and the dead allowed the Goddess of Spring to simply fall.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue was a submission to a brief writing competition. I do not usually write fiction, so with the encouragement of others -- I offer my first bit of fiction writing. Please be kind with comments.
> 
> *Lore Olympus characters are IP of Rachel Smythe

**Golden Thread**

Her weathered fingers test the tension of golden thread, looped and tugged taught-still so strong.

_“Oh, oh, oh! What are you doing? You shouldn’t be doing that,”_ The first sister whispers.

_“Then turn around, Sister, and don’t look,”_ The second sister snaps back looping the thread over the pad of her finger, rubbing it with her thumb.

_“There are rules you know — “_ The third sister sighs.

Rules were meant to be stretched and not broken— a policy that guides how the sisters manage.

These rules are followed generally, if not always, to the letter — tiny passages of words, in a language known only to them, on lengths of golden thread.

_“At least be gentle with it—I worked so hard to find ways to bring him comfort. He has never made it easy on us,”_ third sister urges with follow up sigh of exasperation. _"To choose solitude over connection—to consistently choose logic and reason over…”_

_“Don’t say it, Sister… When we say it… “_ warns the second sister.

_“It happens,”_ concludes the first sister, but continues.

_“It isn’t like we haven’t tried. He is so focused on the tasks just beyond the end of his nose, the demands of him as king, lord, and ruler; he barely pauses to look up.”_ The second sister brightens._“Despite so many missed opportunities… perhaps a bit of a stretch — a loopback to a missed chance?”_

The third sister pauses “Unconventional, but not unheard of… We did...”

First sister narrows her gaze, _“Shhh. Don’t say it, lest we—.”_ Second sister interrupts _“Precisely, It's not unheard of… I’m thinking flowers…”_

_“You’re always thinking flowers…_” the first sister says.

Third sister nods.

_“That thread was missed before. It might just catch now… He might be ready, he just might...”_

~~~~

**Tiny Light**

While Nyx's daughters delighted in their subtle but substantial influence; the composition of the universe responded in kind to the re-twinning of two noble, golden threads. The barrier separating the realms; mortal, Olympian and underworlds undulated under a surge of new power.

Meanwhile, seated at his desk, Hades, King of the Dead, Lord of the Underworld, pauses from his work to look across his office at this faithful companion in the doorway. Stepping towards his three-headed dog, he reaches his hand down towards the center head.

_“Cerberus—What do you have?”_ he asks drawing a mass of stained thick linen from the beast's mouth, orange with ichor and pollen.

Furrowing his brow, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales. Troubled and looking to the expansive map of the Underworld, mounted on the wall opposite his desk, he narrows his gaze to a tiny speck of light illuminating an otherwise sea of grey.

_“This can’t be right...”_

~~~~

**Out of Place**

Persephone’s breath steadies despite the pain. The gashes on her feet and upper thighs are sticky to the touch with ichor. Shivering from her perch atop unforgiving rocks, she sees nothing. A cold breeze confirms both her himation is missing and her chiton is torn.

_“I don’t know how this happened, but surely I am dead. I should be dead…_” she whispers and begins to weep. She gasps to silence when she hears footsteps.

_“No dear, not dead, but certainly not supposed to be here,”_ a deep voice whispers in the darkness.

Renewing fear prompts her stomach to drop, and she extends a cautious, trembling hand into the darkness for help. 

_“Mercy. Please don’t hurt me. My mother will...”_ she whispers between sharp pains to her ribs. 

From the silent darkness, two eyes illuminate before her while her own eyelids struggle to remain open.

Before succumbing to her pain, she manages _“Please — I fell...”_

~~~~


End file.
